☆ WELCOME TO HELL, YE POOR SOULS.

[raisingproject]

Magical Girl Raising Project

Graveyard

The last thing you remember is dying. Whether it's by murder or execution, that's was all it. But surprisingly enough, you wake up in the hotel room that you were assigned in, as if you had never died to begin with. However, once you walk right outside, you'll start noticing that while this is the Town A you remember, there are some slight differences that you notice.

The first thing is the fact that while you can see those who are still alive, they simply cannot see you. In fact, they pass through you, as if you were a ghost. And spoilers: you kind of are one, now. The second thing is that sometimes, if you look at a building for too long or too closely, you'll notice that it fizzles a bit, almost glitchy.

But that's completely fine, isn't it? There is, however, one more thing to keep in mind: there are voices of other people, mumuring. Of course, these other people, unlike you, don't have a complete shape; they're just a silhouette of themselves, looking like static.

However: it wouldn't be Town A without an announcement, would it? Of course not. Hence why upon rearriving, there will be a message, typed out:

Welcome to the afterlife, everyone. This is a greeting message to introduce you to how exactly this works. You have the ability to send one message to the living a week, so choose your words wisely. Of course, there are limitations to what you can say! You cannot reveal the mastermind's true identity, even if you know it. You cannot reveal a culprit or a victim, even if you know it.

Also, all messages will be sent to all players during the trials. If there is no trial, the message shall be sent on Saturday. You may investigate as you wish. If you have any questions to ask of me, please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible.

---

Comments

[raisingproject]

[Someone is waiting for her in the hall. He's tall, short haired and his expression is just as unhappy as hers.]

Hey.

Since you carried my notebook, I thought I'd come see you when you manifested. [He could never call it waking up. That made it sound normal.] We can still make a difference on this side. If you want to.

[hawthorned]

Oh.

[Never burn bridges before you can tell how relevant they are is a belief Dahlia's held onto in life. In death, that doesn't seem nearly as important. There's not much (at least to her knowledge) that can be done to harm a ghost, and what feels like a world of virtually zero consequences is getting to her head. ...and getting your heart ripped out of your body doesn't help soften her mood either, but she's not expecting any sympathy here. The only non-brutal death she's seen here is One's after all. She pauses.]


It's you. [It's not hostile, but it's not exactly friendly either.] Now that I'm here, I don't suppose the rules get in the way of clarity, do they.

[raisingproject]

They don't. What gets in the way is how shoddy our memories are from being drained for so long.

I'm the only one to remember my name and body, that's a recent thing. [He pushes away from the wall, coming over to stand near by but not too close. He hasn't seen any sort of reason to be wary but it never hurts. He vaguely remembers a lot of shouting back when he first died.]

[hawthorned]

[Ah yes, there's always some dumb catch to everything, huh. She almost rolls her eyes at this, but instead she scoffs when she watches him carefully keep himself out of arm's length. Rather pettily, she takes a step closer wearing what can only be described as the world's most passive aggressive smile.]

Well? What kind of a difference are you making?

[raisingproject]

There's a way to end this and bring all of us back. Or so we're being told. [He doesn't pull back when she steps closer. Instead he glances about the inn and motions for her to come with him as he turns, walking towards the doorway.]

The keys can be used in a ritual. We might be bound by some rules but, not as many now. ...Sorry I couldn't just tell all of you everything. I wanted to.

[hawthorned]

[If she were feeling charitable, she'd bite back a few choice words, buuuut....

She'll accompany him out of the inn, however.]

Yes, I'm sure you wanted to do the right thing, you just weren't willing to die for it. How could you be faulted for that? [Poorly veiled sarcasm is poorly veiled.] Who's telling you this and why should that be trusted?

[raisingproject]

I didn't want to sacrifice all of you. [He stresses, quietly but with a heat to it. The sarcasm isn't lost on him. But he's too tired to get really angry about it.] You're the first to have heard us in all the time we've been stuck in this town. Watching game after game. And I'm sick of killings.

Whether or not I die for good really doesn't matter to me anymore. [He bites back that it might be better if he does.]

Whether we should trust the information or not, I don't really know. But it's better than being helpless. And using the keys to just unlock doors is cutting the town off from what's powering it. Us.

[He steps outside and considers where to go. After a momentary shrug, he heads for the park.]

Anyway, Zange told me. The way to the library isn't open yet. When it is, I'll verify the information myself.

1/2 ...not 22 jfc

[hawthorned]

[Dahlia is going to raise an eyebrow at this choice of direction because this does not look like a path, Hinata, but she'll keep her mouth shut on this subject, in favor of a more relevant one out of the many things he's said that merits a folow up question.

Zange. [That's not a name she was expecting to hear, but her surprise quickly turns to acid in her mouth.] What does she have to do with anything?

[Give her a few seconds; this is going to click in 3...2...1...]

2/2

[hawthorned]

Are you implying it was HER all along?

[raisingproject]

[He comes to a stop, looking at her directly but there's something blank about his expression. After being thrown under the proverbial bus he doesn't have enough emotions left to do more than mutely nod.

Zange can explain her own mess.]

[hawthorned]

[She stops when he does. Give her a moment. Maybe a couple because right now thoughts of Zange getting skewered alive are consuming her whole.]

And you helped her.

[raisingproject]

Traitors are chosen at random, and forced into it by a motive they can't refuse. [He knew this was coming from someone. Somewhere. He's so tired.

He can't help but laugh. It sounds exhausted and so bitter.] Not that that matters, right?

It doesn't matter at all.

[hawthorned]

[Of course it doesn't matter - looks like they agree on something!! But it's that grey laughter that gets Dahlia to at least tone down the pettiness of her reply. ...By a pinch.]

Are you looking for sympathy? Please don't be so pathetic. You made a choice... and you cling to the words of someone who you say forced you to do things you knew were vile.

[She softens just a pinch.]

But I agree. It doesn't matter now. Your game is over and I believe you'd want to correct what went wrong.

[raisingproject]

[Over the course of her speaking, his expression got harder and harder to read. His knuckles are white by the end of it and his voice is flat and toneless.]

Are you finished with your tantrum? I'm telling you the facts. You can do whatever you want with them.

I don't have time for dramatics. Get it together or, stay in the dark. Pick one. You have five minutes and I'm not feeling patient.

[hawthorned]

[It's hard not to laugh, and because she really couldn't care for social etiquette now, she does exactly that. It's an annoying, overly saccharine giggle and it feels good to do it, after holding back on laughing at other people's expense for as long as she has. But through all of that, she does recognize that it's not Hinata that's really the person she wants to destroy; it's simply that needling him is a passable substitute. And even this is going to get to a point of being boring or disadvantageous - possibly both.]

Tell me then, Mr. Hinata. I've composed myself.

[raisingproject]

[He's too tired for this bullshit. As he is, he's not going to do much good. Mana use it is then. He changes between one breath and the next, long dark hair spilling down until it brushes the backs of his ankles. His coal black suit replacing the lighter clothes he'd been wearing.

A signs of stress drain away. All signs of any emotion at all. He picks up where he left off as smoothly as if he were talking about the weather. His red eyes have a piercing quality to them they lacked before, as if he can see right through anything he looks at.]

Do you remember I told you there is one among you with a win condition different from the rest? I was referring to the traitor. Zange has used them in a bid to stop the game while still operating within the rules imposed on the Mastermind.

If she dies, the last survivor will be selected to be the next.

[hawthorned]

[The transformation makes her take a step back in reflex - it's hard not to view the action as a threat because of how frivolous it seemed. But that step back is all Hinata gets as Dahlia's fairly determined not to be intimidated. That's just the thing about dying, there's so few things that can hurt. Or so she thinks. She looks him dead in the eyes as he speaks.

She doesn't say what she's thinking this time, but there's a coldness in her own eyes that might as well spell it out. Oh now you're making excuses for poor, murderous Zange, are you? Is there no limit to how low one person can sink? More tactfully, she simply replies:]

If you're suggesting that the traitor has to win in order to end the game, then this cycle's already lost, isn't it? Joshua Bright is dead and Zange is the created the motive that led to his execution.

[Ah but there's obviously more to it, if they can still "make a difference" - whatever the hell that means.]

What's the reason to think otherwise?

[raisingproject]

[Unlike before, there is no reaction from him at her emotions at all. He closes his eyes.]

The traitor's win condition is being the only one left when the game ends. It has always ended in failure. [He turns away from her to stare out over the town, hands at his sides.]

His reason for being a traitor is kept to himself as mine was. The executions always expose them. Should the traitor not be discovered and murdered.

[He starts walking away towards the bridge on whatever path he'd decided on. His tone is matter of fact, but has an utter lack of interest, the complete opposite of before.] You have it correct that one way is theorized to end the game. It will not.

[hawthorned]

[Odd. So the transformation wasn't intended as a threat then. So was the sole purpose to just modulate his expressions and tone? She notes it, but decides not to bother with a frivolous line of thought. Keeping roughly arm's length away from Hinata, she follows him along the bridge.]

Actually prior to all this talk of rituals and traitors, I was under the impression that the only way to end the game was to destroy the master console, which would in turn destroy Fav.

[Or at least, that was what Snow had indicated on the network all those weeks ago. The museum seemed to agree with that as well.]

But I suppose you're about to tell me that's incorrect, too.

[raisingproject]

No. That is correct. [He continues over the bridge but pauses to direct her attention to as much of the town as she can see.]

But the Ritual of Revival should be preformed first. When the console is destroyed, Fav and this town will also be destroyed.

[hawthorned]

[She'll indulge him at look at the Town, sure, but she does it with a look of disdain. At least this one's not directed at him in particular? Or at least not initially. He finishes his sentence, and she looks at him with a raised eyebrow.]

So you'd have us revived and then immediately perish along with the town.

[She'll let that hang in the air for a moment. Despite everything, she knows Hinata can't be a complete idiot, so she'll add.] But judging from the general tone you're taking on this, we all get to go home before the apocalypse.

[raisingproject]

Your last conclusion is what we plan. If it fails none of us will have long to deal with the failure. [He steps off the bridge without a backward glance.]

[hawthorned]

[She's just going to shoot his back a wtf expression before regrouping herself.]

What kind of deserate and foolish plan is that?!

[Ok she did not regroup all that well.]

Never mind the fact that some of us may not want to go home at all.

[raisingproject]

[He waits until she is finished.] There are those who would rather stay dead or departed. But is either all or none.

As for the foolishness of it... would you rather serve as a battery for over a thousand years for countless more games? Losing everything of yourself until you finally taste oblivion? Your face goes right after your name does. Then your memories.

[hawthorned]

[She scowls for another moment. Dahlia isn't a team player, never has been, never will be, and the expectation that she participate in this just so other whiny dead people she doesn't give a damn about can go back home leaves the taste of bile in her mouth.]

It's truly sweet that you think I care if this game continues or not now that I'm dead. Ah, but how do I put this...? Of course I have no desire to be used as a power source, but can you really fault me for feeling underwhelmed by how many flaws a plan that took a millennium to put together has?